


White Flag

by maryfic



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryfic/pseuds/maryfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU from a couple months after Tara left Willow. Dido's song inspired this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Flag

It was late in Sunnydale, and all over town, white hats and black hats were tucked safely in their beds. Tara had watched midnight come and go, and as she watched the clock tick over to 2:01, her heart flipped in tandem with the number. Today marked two months since she’d left Willow, the Scoobies – Dawn. She held no illusions about the mess she’d left behind, but Willow needed to learn a lesson about using magic inappropriately – didn’t she? 

Her fingers turned the candle she’d been marking over and over in her hands as she went back and forth over the same decision that had held her instead of Willow for two months. Stay or go? Stay or go? What was best for the both of them? Really. 

The blonde shook her head. No. She’d left too much of a mess behind. Better to simply leave the situation alone – this was what had been laid down, according to her own rules. Yes. Her heart ached for the redhead, and she didn’t know if staying would kill either of them it was so intense at times. 

_2:05 a.m._

A voice from behind her startled her. A tall blonde woman stood behind her, the form so clear to Tara the woman could have been alive.   
“Nothing good ever happens after two am, baby.” It was sound advice her mother had given her before she’d died – and Tara had always followed it. Until she started arguing with ghosts. 

“I love her, Mom – I need her and us to be okay. Do you – understand?” Her voice cracked. 

A tilt of the head, a silent understanding – and warning, and Tara was alone again. She closed her eyes, fighting for…strength, faith. And the hardest battle: to not do this again. 

_2:10 a.m._

The light from the clock fell on a broken white candle and an empty room. 

***

 _2:37 a.m._

Willow turned over onto her stomach and began to hum softly. Sleep was not her boon companion lately. It took all her energy to get through the days standing up and being so damn normal, you would think exhaustion would claim her eventually. 

But her punishment lay not in the stares of Dawn or Buffy, or even Xander, but in the Technicolor of her own mind – and she had a good imagination if she ran out of reality to spool over the reel. Mostly they were guilt-filled dystopias where she killed someone with her recklessness. Sometimes she killed Amy and then felt guilty for enjoying it. Whatever the content, her emotion was always guilt or sorrow. 

Sometimes she felt righteous anger. Her magic was fine. They had no right. She knew what she was doing. 

Maybe she needed a bracelet. WWGD? A sputtering laugh broke free. What would Giles do? Slap the crap out of her and tell her to snap out of it. 

Well, maybe not the slap, but still. A noise turned her over towards the window and she gaped. 

“Tara?” 

Like a spirit, the blonde tapped on the window and had a weird look on her face. 

Willow opened the window, the streetlight giving her an image of Tara squatting on the roof. “Little-“ then she fell into the room. 

An awkward scrambling moment later, they faced each other, Tara out of breath from her climb up the tree and onto the roof, Willow from the shock of seeing Tara and then having the girl fall for her – er, on her. 

They both spoke at the same time, then Willow shut up and waited. 

“Willow – this can’t go on.” Tara started. “I – I can’t…No.” She said firmly, pushing the stutter down. “I know – I know what I’ve done, and what you’ve done, and I won’t let this go. I won’t let this come between us, no matter what I said. I know we shouldn’t do this, and I should just go, but dammit, Willow. I won’t surrender you to anything without a fight. Not even yourself.” 

The redhead gaped. Then – “You wanna fight me, baby?” in a very soft voice and an even smaller smile. 

Tara took a step forward. Willow took a second. 

After that, sleeping was no problem for either of them. 

_7:14 a.m._

Dawn got up, still mostly asleep. She groped for the door handle, pushed it open, wandered inside, wandered back out, and went next door. A flush could be heard, then – “Tara?” 

 

End.


End file.
